Day 5: Schaefers Pass to Hunting Lodge

It’s a gloriously sunny morning. We take advantage of it and let our clothes and gear finally dry.

Trevor ponders his dry toes while everything else dries out in the glorious sun.

We take off on what proves to be a scenic hike.

Ah, there’s nothing like a Philmont morning: a cool breeze whispering through the Ponderosa pines, the fluttering aspens, the scent of your hiking mates wafting toward you…. It’s day four since anybody was able to take a shower, and it’s starting to show (and smell).

Schaefers Pass was a dry campsite, one without a water source, so we’re running low. Along the trail, we fill up from a clear-running stream.

We break out our lunch at Clark’s Fork, a staffed camp with a blacksmith shop where we can have our hats and boots branded (no shirts, Nalgene bottles or human flesh allowed).

Trevor looks on as his cap gets the famous Bar P Crazy S brand.

Philmont’s two brands are the Bar P Crazy S and Slash Crazy S. You can also get a Scouting fleur de lis brand.

Today’s a miracle day because it doesn’t rain. At all. No kidding.

When we first arrive at our campsite at Hunting Lodge, the staff tells us about their regular visitor, Steve. A regular visitor? Big deal. Except that Steve is a BEAR.

TODAY’S TRAIL TALK:

What we don’t miss about home. Nobody misses TV one bit. Trevor: “I miss my mom and dad, but not my little brother so much.”

“He’s here almost every night, so be sure you tighten up your bear procedures,” they tell us.

“I want to see a bear,” Christian declares.

“You need to be a little more specific,” Blake tells him. “You want to see a bear in daylight, at least 100 yards away from us. Not in our campsite tonight.”

“Oh, yeah. Right.”

We’re at Hunting Lodge early enough for some leisure time. I’d forgotten what that was, exactly. I’m excited because I have some time to wash clothes, something I’d never be excited about at home. Hey, gotta cut down on the stink when you can.

The Hunting Lodge once belonged to Waite Phillips, who donated most of the land that is now Philmont Scout Ranch.

Serious Scout: Blake orients his map during leisure time.

Travis and Christian treat aching feet with ice from the Hunting Lodge.

After a dinner of vegetarian chili, we head to the Hunting Lodge for staff-made cobbler. But there’s a hitch: Before getting a bowl of the mouth-watering dessert, each crew member has to tell a joke the staff has never heard before or then it’s three different jokes you have to tell. And there aren’t too many jokes the staff hasn’t heard before. After all, we’re one of the last treks of the summer. It’s well after dark before all of us get our cobbler.

Sad, pitiful faces don’t bring the cobbler any faster.

Back at our tents, I think, What is the Philmont staff thinking, putting chili in the trail dinners? The sound effects from everybody are pretty astounding. If the gaseous explosions don’t keep Steve away tonight, I don’t know what will.

The oldest of the BSA’s national high-adventure bases, Philmont Scout Ranch near Cimarron, N.M., covers about 214 square miles of Rocky Mountain wilderness.

Scouts, Venturers and adult advisors go to Philmont to backpack through its rugged terrain and enjoy its numerous program activities. Most action takes place in the summer, but several programs are offered in the off-season.

Since 1939, more than 860,000 trekkers have experienced Philmont adventure.

Swap Box: A big box at each staffed camp where crews can trade uneaten (and gross) foods for better stuff. Most dumped: Gorp and beef jerky.

Thorns, Roses and Buds: A nightly ritual in which each crew member tells about his or her “thorn” (worst thing) and “rose” (best thing) of the day and “bud” (goal for the rest of the trek).

Trail Camps: 55 camps that do not include a staff or program activity. Your crew is on its own in the Great Outdoors.

Yum-Yum Bag: The large Ziplock bag in which a crew stores all food waste, which is hauled up in the bear bags at night. Ideally, there’s not much to go into a yum-yum bag. If you open a package of food, you’re expected to eat it all. (Or get somebody else to finish it off for you. Usually every crew has a human garbage disposal or two.)